


Big City Madness, Comfort My Soul

by margaritaville_antifa



Category: Blue Oyster Cult (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margaritaville_antifa/pseuds/margaritaville_antifa
Summary: Albert has a rough week.





	Big City Madness, Comfort My Soul

One fine day in NYC, the greatest city on earth, Blue Öyster Cult were partying at Conry’s Bar after another thrilling concert. Eric Bloom, with a glass of beer in hand, walked up to Albert Bouchard who was perched upon a stool. “Hey Al, you know where the bathroom is?” Eric said.

“That way, Eric,” said Albert, pointing towards a hallway. He didn’t notice when his brother, Joe, came up behind him and pushed him into Eric, causing him to drop his cup.

“OH MY GOD!” Eric cried out. The glass shattered as it made contact with the ground, the intoxicating liquid forming a puddle around the men’s feet. “NO! ALBERT, YOU SPILLED MY BEER! I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Oh shit.” Albert quickly turned around and made a run for his life. The chase was on. Except not, because Albert ran into a wall and knocked himself out.

“Ooh... Who put that wall there?” Albert mumbled.

“There you are!” Eric wrapped his hands around Albert’s throat. “You’re a dead bastard!”

At that exact moment, Buck Dharma walked in on his vocalist choking the drummer and yelled. “WHAT THE FRUIT?”

Eric looked up. “Oh, hi Buck.”

“...Buck... save me,” Albert coughed out. “...Can’t breathe...”

“ERIC! STOP KILLING HIM!”

“Okay...” Eric reluctantly let go of Albert’s neck.

“Now kiss and make-up, you guys are ruining the party.”

Albert got up, his head in a daze. “Wow... I feel drunk AND stoned...” He fell backwards into Buck’s arms and passed out. Eric rolled his eyes and walked back towards the bar.

“Wait, Eric!” Buck said. “What should I do with Al?”

Eric threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know, chuck him in a dumpster or something? I don’t care.” Eric looked around until he spotted his beanpole, chainsmoking keyboardist. “ALLEN!”

Allen Lanier handed Eric another glass of alcohol. “Here you go, Eric.”

“Thanks man.” He took a sip as he watched Buck panic over Albert’s body and sighed. “Man, can you believe Buck? Trying to make everything my responsibility again? Why can’t he handle these things on his own?”

“What are you bitching about now?” Joe, who was sitting nearby, said.

“Shut the fuck up, Joe.”

Then a miracle happened. Buck got an idea! He laid out a blanket and scurried under it to hide from all of his problems.

“This is a very good idea,” Buck thought.

Albert began to stir but then felt the sharp pain of a foot stepping on him. He screamed. “MY RIBS!”

“Oh, sorry bro,” Joe said. “Uh, Buck? Are you okay?”

“What are you talking about, this is just a normal blanket. No Donald “Buck Dharma” Roesers under here, no sir,” said the blanket.

Joe was not convinced. “Buck, what are you doing under there?”

“Buck’s not here right now, please leave a message.”

“Uh, okay.” Joe scratched the back of his head. “Well, do you know what happened to my brother?”

“ERIC DID IT!”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Joe?”

Joe looked down at his brother. “Yes, Al?”

“CALL AN AMBULANCE, YOU MORON!”

“Oh, of course.” Joe went to the phone and dialed the emergency number.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yeah, my name’s Joseph Bouchard and my brother, Albert, is on the floor and he can’t get up.”

“Alright Joseph, and where are you located?”

“Conry’s Bar.”

“Okay, an emergency vehicle will be there shortly, Mr. Bouchard.”

“Thanks.” Joe hung up, and shortly afterwards heard the sirens of an ambulance from outside. Two paramedics came out the back with a gurney and busted through the entrance of the bar. Albert was hoisted up and taken away, so that the doctors could fix him up. Or something. 

All the sudden, another siren blared. Joe looked out and saw a white police car. Two very handsome police officers, one blonde and one brunette, got out. “THE DREAM POLICE, WE LIVE INSIDE OF YOUR HEAD. THE DREAM POLICE, WE COME TO YOU IN YOUR BED. THE DREAM POLICE, WE’RE COMING TO ARREST YOU, OH NO!” The officers sang as they kicked the door down with their guns drawn.

“Hello, I’m Officer Zander and this is my partner, Officer Petersson,” the blonde cop said. “We’re here for one Eric Bloom?”

“WHAT?” Eric yelled.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bloom. But you must be brought to justice,” said Officer Zander. “Now come with us.”

“Make me.”

Officer Zander knocked Eric out with a nightstick and dragged him outside to the car. The Dream Police drove off, taking Eric with them.

“Well, guess we gotta bail him out,” Joe said to Allen.

At the Dream Police Station, Eric was banging his fist against his cell door, and rattling the bars. “GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! NOW!”

Officer Zander opened the door to the cell block, and held it open for Joe and Allen. “You guys have ten minutes to visit, so make it quick,” he said as he left.

Eric stopped making a ruckus as he saw the two from beneath his shades. “Joe...”

“Yes, Eric?”

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I”M GONNA KILL YOU!”

“Eric, stop,” Allen said. “We’re bailing you out.”

“Oh. Okay.”

MEANWHILE: Buck finally got out from under his blanket, when he came face to face with a very cute young man.

“Who are you?”

“Kasim. Kasim Sulton.”

“I... I think I love you...”

So maybe Buck came out of the closet instead...

Suddenly Eric came into the room with Albert. “Hey Buck, guess who’s out of jail?”

“And guess who got his ribs fixed up?” Albert said.

“Weren’t you guys trying to kill each other earlier?” Buck asked, suspiciously.

“That’s all in the past,” Eric said. “We’re friends again.”

“Dope. Let’s all get stoned,” Buck said, taking out three or four pre-rolled joints.

They all sat around the TV, smoking and laughing and telling stories.

“And then he was all like, yeah, and she was all like, oh my god, and i was like, what the hell are you talking about?” Albert said. The other men began to laugh so hard, tears came to their eyes.

“Oh Albert, you’re such a motherfucker,” Eric said.

Is that a good thing, Albert thought. “Yeah, I know, I’m great.” But when he looked to his side, he noticed his bandmates were gone. “Hey, where did they go?”

As it turned out, Eric and Buck (with Kasim) had headed home. It was very late after all. Albert shrugged and curled up on the bar floor, and dozed off.

MEANWHILE: At the House of Bouchard, Joe was at his desk, trying to think up of a plan to destroy his older brother, who he now suddenly hated because he caught a brain parasite at the Dream Police Jail or something. 

“Hmm. Maybe I should shave his mustache...”

“Joe!” Allen said.

“WHAT?” 

“Go to bed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, it IS 1:30 in the morning...”

“Ugh. Fine...”

THE NEXT DAY.

Albert was lounging about in Central Park, enjoying the nice, sunny weather. Unbeknownst to him, his brother Joe was watching him, lurking from behind a tree. 

“This is perfect,” Joe said to himself. “Now I can start my devious plan...”

“CAW!” Cried out a raven from above. The black bird swooped over Joe and defecated on his head.

“Fuck.”

Not far away, Eric was resting on a lawn chair by the Central Park Reservoir. “Ah, peace and quiet at last,” he said.

“QUACK!” Said a resident duck.

Eric opened his eyes and frowned. The duck quacked again, louder this time.

“You STUPID duck! I’m gonna shut you up!”

Luckily for the duck, Buck was nearby. “ERIC BLOOM!” He yelled.

“What?” Eric said, stepping back out of the water.

“You WILL leave that poor bird alone.”

“Okay, Mom.”

The duck, realizing it’s chance for escape, flew off. Buck hit Eric with his Evil Dharma Glare, which was quite intimidating for someone who was barely five foot, four inches. “Buck, I’m sorry!” Eric cried out as he was attacked viciously by the tiny, terrible Buck Dharma.

MEANWHILE. Albert was doing a handstand to showoff to his new friend, a Canadian by the name of Neil Peart. Suddenly, Neil was hit with poison gas and died.

“Oops! That wasn’t Albert,” said Joe, holding a spray can of poison gas.

LATER. At Neil’s funeral in Toronto, Albert knelt by the grave, mourning his lost friend. Joe was behind him, holding a knife behind his back.

“Hmm. I could stab my brother here,” Joe thought. “But then all these people would see. You live... For now...”

Then Geddy sang “O, Canada.” Everyone clapped.

Ever since Neil died, Geddy Lee had to take on the difficult task of writing lyrics for Rush. He sat at the table, thinking and pondering. He raised his pencil but as it made contact with the paper, the lead broke.

“OH NOOOOO!” Geddy yelled, just like he did in 2112. “Now I can’t finish this song. Wait! I can just ask that Joe guy for a pen!”

Albert walked down the hall. “Man, I’m bored.” Little did he know, he was being followed by Joe. Except, it wasn’t Joe. The Joe that had been trying to kill his own brother this whole time was actually... A Robot! A robot sent in by German spies.

The real Joe Bouchard was just sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on the television. “Man, what’s Albert up to. I haven’t seen him in days.”

Anyway, Geddy approached Fake Joe. “Hey Joe.”

“What do you want?”

“Are you... alright?”

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. Do you have a pen I could use?”

Fake Joe then proceeded to stab Geddy in the face with a pen.

Outside, none of the Öyster Boys knew of the Terror that was unfolding in the house. Eric and Alex Lifeson were sharing a fat blunt. Albert and Buck were stretched out on the grass, napping. Albert opened his eyes for a brief moment and nudged his friend. “Hey Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“Isn’t that Geddy Lee?”

Buck opened his eyes. “Where?”

“Over there.” Albert pointed. “In Joe’s arms.”

“FUCK!” Buck screamed.

Indeed, Fake Joe had killed Gedders and was now digging a shallow grave to dump his body into. Albert could not believe his eyes. How could his own brother commit such an act of pure evil. His body trembled, his eyes twitched. All he could do was scream. So he did.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” 

Albert woke up with a jolt. “AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

“Why are you screaming, honey?” Albert looked over to the left side of the bed at Allen, who was looking up at him with concern.

“Don’t worry, Allen baby,” Albert said as he turned over to embrace Allen, their naked bodies squeezing together. “All I need is a kiss to make it better.”

“Of course, babe.” Allen kissed his nose. “I love you.”


End file.
